The Sitting Duck

A couple of nights ago I had what I used to call an “existential crisis.” Now I think a better name for it is a “shit storm of self-hate.”

The storm started off with the usual voices telling me I wasn’t doing enough. “It’s already four in the afternoon and what have you accomplished?” Blah blah blah… Within a couple of hours, I was feeling utterly depressed, hopeless, frustrated, anxious, panicky, etc. Suddenly, everything in my life was wrong. All of the happiness and peace I’d been feeling seemed like an illusion, and I was a fool for falling for it. And for God’s sake, I’d better get my ass in gear and fix all of this, pronto, before it really was too late!

I talked about it with my husband, pushing past the shame of admitting these thoughts. As always, getting them out there, out of my head, immediately sucked away some of their power. I’m not saying I wasn’t still falling for these stories — conditioning was going for the jugular with issues that it knew would totally get to me. Part of me still believes these stories.

But luckily, part of me also knew they were just stories. And I’m also lucky to have a partner who listens and, instead of addressing the content (irrelevant), helps me see the process (the true culprit). With his help, I got to a place where I had a glimmer of perspective.

I realized I was seeing my life through conditioned mind’s lens of “something wrong, not enough.” In fact, every last bit of content in this shit storm could be classified under that heading. Cheri Huber has talked about “something wrong, not enough” as a sort of mantra that pervades our lives, causing a constant state of dissatisfaction. As long as that’s the process, there will always be content to fill it.

That night, none of the external circumstances of my life had changed — and yet the way in which I saw them had changed completely.

Why was this happening now? Well, my theory is that because I’ve been so dedicated to my awareness practice, shining the spotlight on conditioning’s shenanigans, seeing how it’s keeping me in chains, seeing a different way that I can live, feeling joyful and expansive — all of this has threatened conditioning.

If the voice yelling at me were coming from a person who was only interested in my unhappiness, I’d be disregarding everything they said. So why should the voice of conditioning be any more valid? I’ve lived with it for so long that I sometimes mistake it for me — I identify with it. That happened big time the other night. But that glimmer of perspective, that reminder of what was really so, happened too.

Yesterday was a hard day. I got harangued by conditioning. But the good news is that I noticed a lot of the processes that lead to suffering over and over again.

Last night, about a half hour before bedtime, I decided to do a little a sewing, a hobby that I recently took up. Usually, sewing brings me joy. It’s fun, it’s creative. But like anything, it sometimes involves problem solving. Last night I came across an obstacle — something that wasn’t working right. And I found myself quickly moving from joy/fun/relaxation to frustration/obsession/tension.

I stayed up much too late and got tired and foggy-brained, which of course didn’t help the problem solving. At some point I realized this was going downhill, so I went to brush my teeth and get ready for bed. But my mind was still in ruminating mode. I kept feeling a compulsion to go back to my sewing machine to figure out the problem.

That’s when it hit me: this was a familiar process. I could either give in to the obsession (which would no doubt lead to suffering), or I could look at the process (which might eventually lead away from suffering).

So instead of going back to the sewing, I took out my journal and wrote down what I was seeing:

I get obsessed with problem/obstacle. Must figure it out. Compulsive drive to conquer the problem so that I’ll feel good about myself. As if the problem were my fault, something I did wrong, and I must fix it in order to be OK (i.e. live with myself). Anxiety builds because I feel I must get it right, can’t just try something and see how it turns out. Self worth is dependent on success.

Yikes.

My meditation teacher says that we give up suffering when we’ve had enough. I think (hope) I’m getting to that point.

I’m having one of those days when conditioning is just brutal. I’ve had this constant chatter in my head about how much I have to do, how little I’m getting done, how I’m a loser, how things generally suck… the usual. Lately I’ve been able to pay attention, be present and recognize these hurtful voices. Awareness has made life so much better.

But there are days when it feels like I’m being barraged. Today has been one of those days.

In the midst of all the negativity, anxiety and soul crushing, I thought, “It’s just too hard to fight this. I might as well give up.”

There it is: the voice of conditioning. I caught you.

“Conditioning is working hard to ruin your life. You must work at least as hard not to let it.” — Cheri Huber

Yesterday was the second Monday of my “Project Monday” experiment, and I have some tidbits to report… but first let me finish my report from last week.

As I mentioned in my last post, I didn’t end up doing any of the activities I’d had in mind for Monday. Instead, I took care of all the errands and chores I didn’t have time for on the weekend: grocery shopping, laundry, going to the bank, etc. Here’s what I learned:

(1) It’s really hard to be kind to myself.

I have done many difficult things — worked around the clock, deprived myself of basic needs. And yet the hardest thing sometimes is to just give myself a break. I was surprised by the intense resistance I felt to, say, having a long leisurely lunch. The way I was resisting it, you’d think it was like getting a root canal.

Conditioning sees leisure as dangerous. It tells me that if I relax too much or have too much fun, I’ll be a bad person. What if, as Cheri Huber says, our purpose in life is not to be “good” or “productive,” but simply to be happy? This is so radically different from the way I was taught to see things that I have to remind myself of it often.

(2) It’s not what but how.

At first I was ashamed that I spent my Monday doing chores and errands, after I’d set out to take the day off. But I actually enjoyed doing those things. I was present for them, instead of being constantly berated by the voices saying, “You should be writing, not doing laundry.” So, the process was much more enjoyable because I allowed myself to really be there.

Cheri talks about sending the right person to do the job. In other words, I have a sub-personality that likes taking care of household stuff. This person gets satisfaction from taking dirty clothes and making them clean again. That’s the person who should be doing the laundry — not the one who wants to be sitting at the desk, writing. Conversely, the one who wants to do laundry shouldn’t be sent to the desk, because that person will be whining about why the laundry isn’t getting done. Cheri says, “Conditioning always sends the wrong person for the job.”

Now, there is a sub-personality who wants to sunbathe and take a nap, and her needs were not getting fulfilled. But that leads me to my next point…

(3) Baby steps are good.

Instead of looking at my first Monday as a failure, I see it as the beginning of a process that may take a while. Part of being kind to myself is not rushing myself.

So last week I wasn’t ready to do anything but chores and errands. But then yesterday, I did something I never did before on a Monday. I had a barbecue at lunch. I grilled up a tri-tip roast and made steak sandwiches. As my husband and I ate our long leisurely lunch on the backyard patio, I read a magazine and watched our dog napping in the bushes.

This is why I practice.

In my last post I explained “Project Monday,” my experiment in defying the voices of conditioning on the day that they’re strongest. This Monday was my first attempt at the experiment, and here’s what I noticed.

As soon as I decided to take Monday off, I felt the urge to make up for it by being more productive on the days prior. In other words, treat Saturday or Sunday like a weekday. This is what I call “bargaining with conditioning.” Throwing the voices a bone so that they’ll shut the hell up.

I’ve bargained a lot in the past and it’s gotten me nowhere. I used to work myself half to death in the days, weeks or even months before a vacation, so that I would “deserve” the vacation. Then I’d end up exhausted or sick and my vacation would be ruined. Now I see that self-hate had me believing deep down that I didn’t deserve to have fun/pleasure/happiness, no matter what I did. So the vacation was a carrot on a stick — a promised reward that was never delivered. It was just bullshit designed to keep me miserable.

One thing I’ve learned from Zen Buddhism is, “You’re always practicing something.” I used to think that working myself ragged was a means to an end. But it was a practice, like everything we do. I was practicing being stressed out. And because I wasn’t conscious of it, that practice continued even when I was supposed to be relaxing.

Anyway, back to the weekend. I resisted the urge to run errands and do chores. I did yoga, went to a party, had a barbecue with my family, saw a movie with friends. Things were going fabulously well.

But I did notice something else. As Monday approached, I kept thinking about things I’d like to do as part of my experiment. Which is fine, except that I felt a strong urge to make a solid plan. Now, we have to make some plans in order to function in society. But it can get out of hand. My “Planner” sub-personality will plan things until there’s no ounce of spontaneity left, and gets upset if things don’t go according to plan. Joy… gone.

So I resisted the urge to write down a list of activities for Monday. But I thought about some possibilities: midday bath, chick flick, bike ride, siesta, reading a book while sunbathing in the backyard.

Did I do any of these things? Nope. Not a one.

To be continued in my next blog post…

I decided to try an experiment: make Monday the new Friday.

This idea came about when I was talking to a friend about how Thursday has become the new Friday. People seem to go out more on Thursday nights than they used to, presumably because they’re treating Friday as if it’s already the weekend. I joked, “For me, Monday’s the new Friday.” I’m currently unemployed and it’s been a long time since I had a conventional Monday-to-Friday kind of job anyway.

The irony is that even though Monday doesn’t mean the same thing as it once did (get up early, report to an office, slog through another work week), it still has the same effect on me. I still hate Mondays.

But as my meditation teacher said, “Conditioning loves Mondays. It thinks it owns Mondays.” That’s the day when the voices of conditioning have their strongest hold on me. Here’s what they say:

“You should be working.” (I’m a writer, so even when I’m not officially employed, I always feel like I should be writing.)

“You should be working harder.”

“Try being a productive member of society for a change.”

“Everyone else has already put in half a day, and you haven’t even taken a shower yet.”

“You are so f-ing lazy.”

These hateful voices are always nattering away in my head to some degree, but on Mondays the societal expectations, the cultural norm, make the voices seem even more believable. On Monday I’ll be doing something totally necessary, like grocery shopping, and I’ll hear this sarcastic voice saying, “Well, aren’t you lucky that you get to buy bananas in the middle of a weekday?”

Yes, I am lucky. It sure beats doing it on a crowded Saturday afternoon, when the bananas are all picked over and bruised. Does it really matter when I buy bananas? It needs to be done.

The bottom line is that I have certain expectations of what I’m supposed to be doing on a Monday. When I worked a 9-to-5 job, I hated how rigid my schedule was. I longed to have freedom. And now that I have freedom, conditioning has found another way to make me suffer: by punishing me for that freedom.

Cheri Huber recommends that whenever conditioning is trying to push you around, the best course of action is to do something that will really piss it off. For instance, if conditioning is beating me up for not being productive, I should take a bubble bath or a nice long nap. Conditioning will scream, “You can’t do that!” It will try to convince me that a midday bubble bath will lead directly to slackerdom, poverty and moral depravity. But what will actually happen is that I’ll take a bubble bath and everything will be okay. And the more I do these things that conditioning forbids, the more I’ll experience that okay-ness. I’ll learn not to listen to the voices, and thus have true freedom.

So, this is the story of how Project Monday was born. Every Monday, for as long as my schedule allows, I will defy the voices of conditioning. This, of course, is easier said than done. Yesterday was my first attempt at defiance, and let’s just say the results were mixed. More about that in my next blog post.

Till then, fight the power!

In awareness practice, I keep reading and hearing, “Don’t take anything personally.” This is one of the keys to freedom and joy that Cheri Huber writes about in one of my favorite books, Suffering Is Optional. Well, not taking things personally seems easy… until I come across something that really seems personal!

The latest example of this came up when I received a comment on my blog from someone I didn’t know. I deleted the comment because it was counter to the spirit of this blog, which is intended to be a supportive community for people who practice awareness. The comment wasn’t supportive. In fact, I was offended by it. I project that it wasn’t intended to be insulting, but rather that the person thought he was being helpful by offering advice. But that didn’t stop me from getting angry about it.

Part of me wanted to shoot back a defensive reply. Part of me wanted to tell my friends about it so I could gather support for my “side.” Part of me wanted to find out more about this person in order to explain why he would say what he said (in other words, to create a “story” about it). Another part of me wanted to just curl up in a ball and hide, never to write another blog post again.

I’m just watching all these parts jumping into action. It’s like some sort of ragtag army in an old-fashioned sitcom. This is what happens when “I” take offense. “I” in quotes because it’s ego that takes offense.

Here’s what I’m noticing:

The more vulnerable I feel about the content of the perceived criticism/slight/attack — in this case, my meditation practice — the louder the screams from egocentric karmic conditioning. So here am I writing this very personal blog about something that is important to me. I’m feeling totally vulnerable because I’m laying it all out there: “I’m a flawed human being and here’s what I struggle with.” And throughout this process, I’m constantly berated by the voices that tell me I’m “not enough,” but I summon the courage to plow through that. And then a voice from the outside world pipes in and basically says exactly what conditioning says.

Boy, that is like getting pummeled in the solar plexus with a battering ram.

Instead of trying to defend the content, as ego desperately wants to do, I’m watching this whole process. Situations like this have presented the most challenging practice opportunities for me. What they ultimately point out is that I take things personally all the time. It’s just that I’m usually not aware of it until something big comes along.

Another example: I wasn’t invited to my 10-year high school reunion. At the time, I was really offended. I went through all the reasons why I might have been left out. Never mind that I didn’t even want to go — I just wanted to be invited, dammit! I finally concluded that the woman who organized the reunion (a former classmate) had deliberately left me out because of an old resentment (I dated her ex-boyfriend). For years I was absolutely convinced this story was true.

Then the 20-year reunion rolled around, and once again I wasn’t invited. But I found out that the reunion organizer wasn’t the person I’d thought it was. This person, as far as I know, had no beef with me at all. In one fell swoop, the whole story got erased. I love it when beliefs get eradicated like that! It opens up a whole new world of possibilities. So now I really don’t know why I wasn’t invited, but I’ve stopped caring. So much freedom in accepting “I don’t know.”

As I’m writing this, ego is still having its tantrum, stomping its little feet. I’m just going to turn my attention away and go on with my day.